Journal Entry Numbers
by A Flame's Embers
Summary: Sometimes, essays can change lives. At least, that's what Jack thinks—a reincarnation of an old Jack (but he doesn't know this)—as he works on a history project. He encounters entries from his namesake's journal, and watches as he slowly matures. (Better Summary, Better Title)
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Sorry for the shortness of this, as this is indeed, a prologue meant to only introduce this and test the waters. This idea has been bothering me for a while, and even though it isn't exactly the best thing I've ever written, go easy on it.

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**Radiata History: In My Eyes**

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"History is important, as we can all learn and..." The rest of the lecture went deaf to Jack's ears. He sat in the back of class, mindlessly flipping through the pages of a textbook. Radiata was dreadfully boring, so boring that he swore the past he read here was an extremely different place—maybe even a different world. He stared at a page; there, his namesake was not only a swordsman, but he also brought down an entire civilization. And that Jack was barely older than the present Jack is now.

"Jack Russell," his teacher continued. No one called him by the practical name of Mr. as all other teachers. Actually, no one even knew his last name. Some referred to him as 'That Teacher' or 'That Long-haired Guy'. Jack himself just said his name. Locien, it was, and he had such a dull sort of way of saying things; although, the girls he did end up teaching didn't mind. Half of them probably looked at him with hearts in their eyes. "Yes, Jack Russell was..."

"Hm? I, uh—who called me?" Laughter echoed in the small classroom. Jack lowered his head in embarrassment at the twinkle in Locien's eyes and the small grin forming on his face. Right. This was Radiata History; anything revolving around 'Jack' wasn't about this Jack. No, it was about that Jack. Why couldn't they be one in the same? This thought had flowed into the young boy's mind several times in his school days, something that he never wanted to admit.

Jack could picture it—this Jack, not that Jack. That Jack died a long time ago. Yes, he could picture it. Picture fighting dragons, finding valkyries, destroying races, and defending friends. Those thoughts... Those words in his textbook... Jack swore they seemed vivid—too vivid—to just be his imagination. What else could they be? Memories? No, that was preposterous. Yet, he swore Ridley's—that was her name, right?—dying face seemed oh, so real. Af if it was painted inside his mind. His very brain and spirit.

The sound of coughing broke Jack from his reverie. "Jack, pay attention. Try not to interrupt me again..."

"Yes. Yes, sir."

"To show you understood this class though, I'll need you to do a little project for me, Jack." Mocking sounds filled the room, but were quickly silenced by Locien. "I need an essay from you, an essay about your namesake."

"Y—yes, sir." He was so screwed. And Locien knew it. Jack was incapable of writing much, in fact, it was damn near impossible. But he didn't voice these concerns. No, never voice them... That would be suicide.

"Right. Class dismissed. And Jack, try not to fail this."

"Ha. Right..." Yeah, he was so screwed.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **The first official chapter of "Radiata History: In My Eyes". I don't know what I'm getting myself into, as this could very well turn into an extremely long story. And I just don't like that idea. However, welcome.

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**Radiata History: In My Eyes**

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Jack pursed his lips, glancing at the textbook with some interest, although only enough to get by. As much as he liked history (and no, it wasn't because his name was mentioned a lot), Jack couldn't stand that he would have to actually write a five page essay on this thing. It was a daunting task, besides, he was only in 8th grade! How exactly did his teacher expect such a huge amount of work to be done when the brown-haired youth was known to be a slacker? He almost started to cry, just to procrastinate on this just a little bit longer.

He turned a page, noting with interest that the book started to turn slightly more confessional. Before it edged into the actual writing, it explained what would be stated below. Jack found out that in the past, the boy he was writing a report on had actually kept a detailed journal of his journeys—the introduction mentioning that Adele, his sister, had suggested the idea. It'd actually be a good way to summarize everything, and Jack noted that with the details given, he could easily give an essay in his own words.

He skimmed down the page just a tiny bit, looking at the beginning. It started out just like a diary entry, although the brown-haired child would bet that the Jack in the past would have argued heavily on that remark. He chuckled a little bit, starting once again on reading.

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Dear...

God. How do I go along with this? I don't think 'Dear Diary' would be a good way to start this off; I'm not a girl after all. So, what? Maybe:

To the Journal,

Even worse! How could that be possible, that I could come up with such a corny start? Ha, it's probably because I'm just such a wreck. Ridley always did say I was a moron. I never argued of course (well, maybe a little—just a little!), but it was always a little disheartening to know that those words are the complete truth. Hmph, Sir Jack Russell, the Moron of Radiata Castle! Isn't that a great title?

Yes Jack, it is.

And now I'm talking to myself. Just what the heck is wrong with me? Back to the task at hand, a title (or... how to start it? I don't know.) and some sort of stupid way to catch a person's attention. Wouldn't that be grand? Ha! I used 'Grand' in a sentence! Take that Ridley! So much for: "I doubt you can even comprehend what 'grand' means, let alone use it in a sentence." [Even though that was a quote, I just used it again!]

I think I'm getting off topic again. Who would've thought that as soon as I started writing, I'd end up rambling like an idiot? I guess Adele was right, I'd need this in the castle. Someway to get things off my chest.

So, how should I start this? Nothing too fancy, I suppose; I need something simple. Maybe just...

_Entry 1 - January 5, 1785_

That works. Yeah, it does. I guess I got one part down. Now, onto the actual confessional part of this. This is... a confessional right? I'm supposed to write down stupid stuff, get things off my chest. I'd better not confuse myself. Yeah, no need to admit to the Olacian Order that I may just act a little bit like a girl by having a... diary—no, a journal. Let's keep it at that, yeah.

So yesterday, I met this guy whose actual name was Genius! I just can't believe it—really, how uninspired were his parents when they looked for baby names?—but I guess he lives up to his standards. Well, at least I think he did; I didn't understand half the things he sputtered out. I mean really, why does he obsess so much about fairies (or are they elves? They have wings after all! Don't get mad at me for getting confused!)? It seems like such a dumb thing to research about for a... Hah, genius. I'm so bad at puns, aren't I?

Anyway, we got all the way to the elves' secret little hideout behind a waterfall, when all of a sudden these glittery creatures flew down. They ended up being elves—though they looked waaaaaay too much like fairies—and god, did they need a chill pill. I mean, kill us for just wanting to give a paper to their Lord? I wonder what flew up their asses. I had half a mind to throw my sword at them (and I think Ridley was about to throw her hammer at them in rage) when Ganz just told us to go back.

All that wasted walking. My feet were already aching from all of that. And don't look at me like that, Journal (oh god, I'm starting to talk to you like you're a person), I've been running all day killing hordes of cockroaches! Man, that hardly sounds like a good knightly thing to do. Technically, I'm just a trainee, but I'm still a knight... I think. I'm still confused.

Long story short, Genius told us to go to some other elves. I was kinda mad at this, I mean, why didn't we go to them first since they were so nice (did I forget to mention that?)? Pfft, I swear, Ridley and I were about to throttle this pompous dude who fights on some floating disk. (WHO DOES THAT?)

We saw Lord Nogueira (after walking over a freakin' log...) and this time, we weren't turned away! It's such a relief actually, I'm extremely tired. Oh yeah, and the dark elves—that's what they're called, the dudes who don't have wings—were nicer too. Except for that one guy, who I swear cheated me out of all of my Gil. Man, I seriously thought that I had it! Although, I should remember: find out what an odd and even number is.

So I'm in my bunk now, it's kinda comfy, and I think I'm going to fall asleep soon. It's getting dark anyway, probably close to twilight now. Mmph, this took longer to write than I thought.

How should I end this? Maybe, uh, nah... Just a sincerely will do fine enough, I guess.

Sincerely,

Jack Russell, currently a Knight of Radiata castle

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Jack laughed a bit. This guy that he was named after, he tended to ramble. And he was a bit dense, he guessed. Just like himself...

He flipped the page. Time for the next entry, after all, he needed as much research as he could get.


End file.
